


Kidnapped! The Musical

by tfm



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Comedy, F/M, M/M, Musicals, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-14
Updated: 2010-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-10 13:24:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their own bizarre kidnapping and unexplained singing is definitely something the BAU could do without. But then again, there may be some positive side effects after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Kidnapped! _The Musical

*             *             *

** _Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese._ **

_G. K. Chesterton_

*             *             *

Prologue – In Which Spencer Reid discovers his co-workers are missing.

Spencer Reid had not slept very well the previous night. He had tossed and turned for hours, and when he finally did drop off, he had nightmares. They were different to the nightmares he usually had. Usually, he saw mutilated bodies, tortured souls – the standard profiler nightmare package. Last night, he had dreamt of his colleagues – his friends – kidnapped. He had seen Hotch taken down by the two tiny electrodes of a taser gun. He had seen Rossi being hit over the back of the head with – of all things – a wooden staff. He saw Emily, Morgan and Garcia being overcome by their attackers as they attempted to fight back, eventually succumbing. He saw JJ struggle against the rag pressed across her lips.

He had woken in a cold sweat, and realized that he was running late. He pulled on his mismatched socks, struggled with his pants, and forgot his tie. Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed a strange tingling in the air, as if someone had given physical form to white noise.

He poured his coffee hurriedly. He knew he wouldn’t make it into work at all if he didn’t get his fix. He dumped three heaped spoonfuls of sugar into the piping hot liquid. It burnt his tongue when he attempted to guzzle it, as though it were water. He’d be lisping for the next half hour at least.

He rushed out the door, grabbing his messenger bag on the way.

*             *             *

He ran into the bullpen, surprised to find out that he was the only member of the team that was actually there. He had spilt coffee down his pants for nothing.

He checked his watch; it was almost half-past ten. New cases at ten a.m. He checked the conference room. It too was empty. Confused, he went back to his desk. _Had they all gone on vacation without telling him?_ He tried calling Garcia; there was no answer. He called Kevin.

‘Hey, Kevin, this is Spencer Reid.’

‘Oh, hi Reid. What can I do you for?’ Unlike Reid, Kevin Lynch sounded alert – vigilant, almost. Reid suspected that there was probably some form of energy drink involved.

‘Have you seen Garcia?’ He couldn’t help but convey the worry in his voice. It was one thing for a single member of the team to be missing, but all of them? That was unprecedented. Even if the team had left on an urgent case, Garcia still should have been there.

‘No, sorry man. Haven’t seen her since yesterday.’

‘Okay, thanks.’

He tried cell phones. He got voicemail. He tried home phones. He got answering machines.

He sat down at his desk, and immediately noticed a white envelope. The kind he should have noticed upon entering. Instead, he was too preoccupied with the conspicuous absences.

He tore open the envelope, not considering that it might be needed for evidentiary purposes.

His brain processed the words immediately, and yet he didn’t want to believe them.

“Kidnapped your friends,” the note read. “See if you can find them.”

He blinked once. Twice.

His dreams last night – they hadn’t been nightmares. They had been visions.

*             *             *

He sat at his desk, numb with shock.

He was the one that always got kidnapped – why had the tables turned.

Almost unconsciously, he started singing below his breath.

‘_All this time  
I’ve been the one  
Who’s been so scared.  
Who’s had to run._

I’m on my own,  
my friends are gone.  
I’ll have to face  
the rising dawn.

They need my help;  
I’ll have to fight  
to save them from  
the darkest night.

Now they’re gone,  
the game is set.  
The tables turn.  
I’ll take the bet.’

He stopped, mildly confused. He hadn’t realized he was singing until he had stopped. He hadn’t even meant to start. It had just felt so…natural. Was he imagining it? He turned around; saw an agent staring at him wordlessly.

‘Was I just singing?’ he whispered. The agent nodded, somewhat flabbergasted.

Reid stood there, his mouth open slightly.

_Just what on Earth was going on?_

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Kidnapped!_ The Musical

*             *             *

** _After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music._ **

_Aldous Huxley_

*             *             *

Chapter One – In Which Spencer Reid Is Given Orders and his Co-workers Regain Consciousness in a Dark and Lonely Place

Spencer Reid was terrified. Unsubs were a fear that he could deal with. He could deal with the depths of human depravity; the sadists, the psychopaths, the deranged. He was less accomplished at dealing with power-mongering superiors.

Yes. Spencer Reid was terrified of Erin Strauss. He would rather have been talking down an armed suspect than doing what he was doing right now.

‘Kidnapped.’ She took his revelation with, not raging fury as he had suspected, but with something that seemed almost like annoyance, as though the team being kidnapped were on the same scale as having a fly in your coffee.

‘God. Can’t anyone in this department go a single day without things fucking up? First it’s “Oh, Agent Morgan’s been arrested for murder,” then it’s “Dr. Reid’s been kidnapped,” and then “I was standing next to an exploding SUV.” Can’t you people take care of yourselves?’ Her tone did not say “Section Chief Erin Strauss,” it said “ambivalent acquaintance”.

Reid stared for a moment. This was not the Erin Strauss he knew – if he was dreaming, then that would explain the singing, _and _this strange doppelganger. He stood, waited, as though he was expecting himself to be pulled from a reverie at any second. When nothing happened, he shuffled his feet nervously, and said;

‘Well…what should I do?’

She turned her head sideways, evaluating him.

‘Deal with it,’ she told him. ‘Take who you need – I don’t care who – just deal with it. I’m putting them all down as on Vacation Without Pay, so you’d better hurry it up.’

Eager to escape the officer of this bizarre new Strauss, Reid rushed for the door. Now that was sorted, he needed to find some help.

*             *             *

The room was almost pitch black. The only light came from underneath the door, and the flickering nature of it told Jennifer Jareau that it was fire rather than electricity.

Her head was fuzzy. She could quite remember what she had done to end up here, but she hoped that it wasn’t embarrassing. And if it was embarrassing, she hoped there had been no evidence documented.

‘Hello?’ At least, that was what she was trying to say. It came out as a half-moan, as if an inebriated zombie were trying to speak.

‘JJ?’ A familiar voice, though not necessarily a comforting one. Derek Morgan was the last person she would have expected herself doing something embarrassing with. But then, this seemed a far more sinister situation.

‘Morgan?’ When she spoke this time, the words were clearer, her mind more focused. She wouldn’t have been very well suited to her occupation had she not possessed those legendary concentrating abilities.

‘Where are we? What’s going on?’ His speech sounded slightly deficient, though from the slight lisping of his s’s, she determined that it was from injury rather than fuzziness.

Morgan had never heard JJ sing before. He was sure he might hear her voice one day – at a karaoke bar, maybe, or on a dare. The last place he expected her to sing was here.

Her voice was like a chorus of angels, he found himself thinking. He expected no less.

‘_We’re in a dark and lonely place.  
Can’t see the light, can’t see your face._’

If tumbleweed had been available in any capacity, it would have gone slowly bouncing past.

‘I’m sorry,’ she apologized. ‘I have no idea what just happened there.’

‘It’s okay,’ he said. Truth be told, he relished the experience. ‘You have a lovely voice.’

She followed the sound of his voice, and found his hand in the darkness. ‘What do you remember?’

She imagined him furrowing his brow, though she couldn’t see it. ‘I was out with Garcia and Emily. We got ambushed in an alley. Are…was there anyone else here?’

‘I don’t think so.’

There was nothing left for them to do but explore their sinister surroundings.

*             *             *

It had been a long time since David Rossi had woken up next to a woman. This particular woman had her head on his chest, her long tresses spilling into the top of his shirt. He wondered how much he had had to drink last night – was it so much that he couldn’t remember taking someone home?

He realized then – he wasn’t on his own bed. Had he drunk so much that he couldn’t remember a woman taking _him_ home? Then, he remembered that he hadn’t even been drinking last night.

He opened one eye. Even in that limited field of vision, he could discern the identity of the woman.

‘Emily?’

She reacted slowly. Stirring slightly, turning her head. Once she realized the situation she was in, her head shot up. ‘Rossi?’ There was a mixed expression on her face; it was part bewilderment, part horror. Unconsciously, she looked down to determine her state of dress. Assured that naughty things did not seemed to have happened, she turned to face Rossi.

He saw the mottled bruises that decorated her face, saw the dried blood that had seeped from a cut across her forehead.

‘What happened?’ He brushed a finger across a dark spot on her jawline, careful not to apply too much pressure.

‘I gave them a run for their money,’ was all she said. Then, she remembered. ‘Morgan and Garcia were with me.’

Even in the dim light, it was evident that they were alone. If Morgan and Garcia had been taken, then they weren’t here now.

‘_We will survive.  
We’ll find a way.  
In this dark  
and lonely place._’

There was a few seconds of silence after his sudden aria.

‘Oh,’ Emily said finally, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. ‘So you’re a baritone?’

*             *             *

Penelope Garcia usually went to the ends of the Earth to avoid darkness. Not just physical darkness (though she hated that too) but the darkness that consumed them all on a day to day basis. She felt less depressed by casework if she had half a dozen beanie babies waltzing beside her on the desk.

Here, in this tiny room with the light of a single candle, all she had was Aaron Hotchner, and he was not exactly the epitome of sunshine.

She loved him all the same, of course, but he wasn’t the person she would go to if she needed her day brightened. For that, she’d go to…well, anyone else _but_ Hotch, it seemed. She couldn’t deny the fact that he had his moments, though.

But now, unconscious, he wasn’t much help to her. She tried shaking him awake for the third time in half an hour. This time, he responded, awakening with a groan that was atypical of him.

‘_This mortal coil has gone too far;  
this vale of tears consumes me.  
For when I wake forever more,  
the darkness here surrounds me._’

He did not seem to realize he had been singing until he sat up, blinking. Then, he looked quizzically at Garcia.

‘Was I just singing?’ The inflections in his voice were unique to one emotion, one that Aaron Hotchner rarely displayed in large capacities; confusion.

‘It’s good to see you’re up, sir,’ was all Garcia said. It was all she could say.


	3. Chapter 3

_Kidnapped!_ The Musical

*             *             *

** _Some mornings it just doesn't seem worth it to gnaw through the leather straps._ **

_Emo Phillips_

*             *             *

Chapter Two – In which Spencer Reid recruits help, and his co-workers assess their situation

Reid knocked lightly on the door of Kevin Lynch’s – for lack of a better word – office. It was smaller than Garcia’s, and it had less equipment, but it was by no means destitute.

‘Hey, buddy,’ Kevin greeted the man who was, technically, a superior. ‘Still can’t find Garcia?’

With a frown on his face, Reid held up the note that had been left on his desk. ‘They’ve been kidnapped – they’ve all been kidnapped. Strauss told me to use whoever I needed.’ He didn’t mention the Section Chief’s strange behavior, or his own strange behavior. They were subjects best broached at a later time.

Kevin’s brows knitted. Kidnapping was never a good thing, but; ‘And they’ve left you behind? Since when does anyone kidnap everyone except you? Usually they’re lining up to knock you…’ He trailed off at the look on Reid’s face.

‘How can I help?’

Reid scratched his head. He had no actual experience with actually running a case, so he could only guess at how he should proceed. ‘Check the bullpen security footage. See who left that note.’

*             *             *

_‘The doors are locked, there’s no way out  
but it’s no time to scream and shout.  
We’ll last it through; we’ll find a way  
to survive another day._’

Emily found herself singing as she tested the door handle. ‘Mezzo-soprano?’ questioned Rossi with a raised eyebrow. She stopped, as if only just then aware that she was singing.

‘I’ve always preferred mezzo-soprano to the contralto or the regular soprano.’ He spoke as if it were an everyday conversation, as if they weren’t trapped in some strange dark room in some strange dark place. As if they weren’t singing for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

‘I didn’t pick you for the musical connoisseur.’ She kept he mouth firmly shut after that, afraid that she might burst into a startlingly accurate rendition of “The Time Warp.” It probably didn’t help that she already knew all the words. And the dance moves.

‘My second wife,’ he explained. ‘She was very big on musical theater. I’ve seen Les Mis fourteen times.’

Emily laughed; the rich sound reverberated throughout the tiny room. ‘Fourteen. I wish I’d only seen it fourteen times. My mother’s one request – demand, really – that we see _Les Misérables_ whenever we were in France. I can _still_ “hear the people sing.”’ She sat down beside him on the bed, sighing. She put a hand to her aching head.

‘You alright?’ he asked, unable to keep the concern from his voice. His own head was sore, but he knew her pain was probably much greater.

‘Just…throbbing,’ she told him. She needed water, but the circumstances did not allow for a tap. The only piece of furniture in the room was the bed on which they sat. It was surprisingly dull, even for a cell.

‘I guess we just sit and wait,’ concluded Emily. ‘Though what we’ll do in the meantime, I have no idea.’

‘I guess you’ll have to deal with my lackluster conversation skills,’ he joked.

‘Somehow, Dave, I think I’ll survive.’

He cracked a smile. It wasn’t often she called him Dave.

*             *             *

‘So…’ started Morgan. He was wracking his brain, trying to think of a suitable conversation topic. In comparison to his relationships with the rest of the team, his relationship with JJ was somewhat lacking. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, didn’t admire her, it was simply that he found himself spending more time with the other members of the team. He knew the silences wouldn’t be as awkward were he here with Reid, or even Emily.

‘Redskins, huh?’ Football was a topic he could talk about.

‘Right.’ In the darkness, she was grinning. ‘You’d be a Bears fan?’

‘Through and through.’ He stopped. He got up and moved a little closer to the door. ‘Did you hear that?’

‘Hear what?’ She listened intently, and heard what sounded like…

‘_The sound of feet;  
our foe, we’ll meet.  
We’ll find out why  
the end is nigh._’

He held the last note for several seconds. He noticed his hands had adopted a pose that suggested he was presenting himself.

JJ wondered what she could say; she knew directly addressing the issue of his singing voice would embarrass him immensely. Instead, she tried for the indirect approach.

‘Did you ever notice in musicals, how no-one ever seems to have a bad voice? I mean, sure, they’re written that way, but if you wanted them to be at all realistic, you’d expect maybe one of them to be out of tune.’

He didn’t get a chance to answer, because right then, the door swung open.

*             *             *

Garcia tried to speak, but couldn’t. Her boss was busy examining the cut on her lip.

‘It’s fairly minor,’ he said eventually. She made a small, harrumphing noise. She could have told him that.

‘So…’ she asked him. ‘What do we do?’ He was technically in charge, in spite of the fact they had no idea where they were, when they were, and whether or not this was still considered working hours.

‘We could either sit here and wait…’ was the first suggestion, ‘Or, we could make enough noise that we’d have to bring someone running.’

Garcia took the second “suggestion” as an order, and immediately stood up.

‘_WE’VE HAD ENOUGH  
WE’LL SCREAM AND SHOUT  
‘TILL YOU CAN STAND  
TO LET US OUT._’

‘Garcia.’  He pulled her back gently. ‘Antagonizing them isn’t going to help.’ He didn’t know specifically it was a “them,” but he could assume; it was definitely more than one person who had attacked Garcia, Morgan and Prentiss.

He got the feeling he would soon find out, though. Garcia’s rich tones had incited fast, heavy footsteps in the hallway beyond.


	4. Chapter 4

_Kidnapped! _The Musical

*             *             *

** _If we couldn’t laugh, we would all go insane._ **

_Jimmy Buffett_

*             *             *

Chapter Three – In which Kevin Lynch learns the truth and the kidnapped members of the BAU have light character moments

‘That’s…weird,’ commented Kevin. Reid leaned forward.

‘What is it? What’s weird?’

‘Check it out.’ Kevin rewound the footage, and zoomed in on Reid’s desk. ‘First no letter, and then, bang – letter. It’s like the thing appeared out of nowhere.’

That there were other strange goings-on reassured Reid somewhat. It was one thing to find yourself singing in a crowded bullpen, but that combined with the mysterious appearing letter meant that he wasn’t actually going crazy like he had feared.

‘_I’ve seen something I can’t describe;  
some strange and wondrous thing.  
But look right here, there’s something new.  
I’ve started to………_sing?’

The technical analyst had spoken the final word of his tune, voice aghast.

‘Why am I singing?!’ He looked at Reid in horror, as though the young genius had all the answers. While this was usually the case, he could not shed any light on their current situation.

‘I’ve got a feeling that this is all connected,’ Reid said. ‘We need to figure out what’s going on, where our friends are, and who’s behind this. But we’re going to need help.’

*             *             *

The door had swung open, but there seemed to be no person behind it, as though it had swung open of its own accord. Beyond the threshold, they could see the source of the flickering light; a bracketed torch. JJ stepped forward cautiously, and was immediately pulled back by Morgan.

‘What are you doing?’ she hissed. He nodded towards the hallway, where a series of spikes had shot up from the floor.

‘Pressure sensor, I’d wager.’

‘There’s no way you could have known that.’ They stepped forward again, careful not to set off any more traps.

‘Call it male intuition, I guess.’ He grinned wildly as she elbowed him playfully. He gently removed the torch from the bracket, and looked up and down the hallway carefully. It felt like they were underground – there were rock walls, and a strange kind of deadness in the air.

‘Don’t go setting off any more traps,’ he warned her quietly, wary of noise activated devices. In reply, she simply rolled her eyes.

*             *             *

‘Hotch?’ Garcia had whispered so not to make her supervisor jump. She needn’t have worried; nothing would have surprised him right now.

‘What is it?’ He turned to face her, eyes highlighted by dancing flames.

_They’re very nice eyes_, Garcia thought to herself. A second voice told her: _He is your_ boss!

_But that doesn’t stop them from being nice eyes_, the first voice reiterated.

‘Are you having trouble breathing?’ her voice was fast, almost panicked. ‘I feel like we don’t have any air in here.’

Then, there was that third voice, which went _OH GOD, WE’RE GOING TO DIE._

He put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Calm down, Garcia.’ His voice was commanding and yet caring at the same time. ‘You’re hyperventilating.’

‘It’s just…I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t like not knowing what’s going on, or where my friends are, and I’m afraid that they might be hurt or dead and that there was something I could have done to stop it, but I didn’t…’ Her run-on sentence was cut short by an embrace from Hotch. He held her tight, as if to tell her that it was all going to be okay.

The warmth of his shirt comforted her, and for a moment, she believed everything he said.

*             *             *

A cold chill went through the room. Emily found herself shivering, though Rossi’s body was pressed up against hers. They were conserving body heat, or at least that was the excuse he had given her.

‘You hear that?’ he murmured. A low, mournful tune had sprung up. A funeral march.

‘Mmm,’ she replied. Her eyes fluttered. She was having trouble not falling asleep then and there. She jerked herself awake. She didn’t want to be sleeping right now.

‘Keep me awake,’ she told him. It seemed a request, rather than an order. He stood up slowly, and then took her arm.

‘What are you doing?’ The action had surprised her, though it hadn’t disappointed her.

‘Keeping you awake.’

It was a strange scene as they danced slowly in time to the slow tune. Whatever its reason, its purpose, it had a different use now.

‘Let me guess? Ballroom dancing with the third wife?’ She let out a small sound as he dipped her.

‘No.’ He attempted to sound shocked, offended. ‘First wife.’

As the music slowed even further, she found herself pressed into his shoulders; no part of them was not touching each other.

‘_Molto bello,_’ he whispered into her neck.

‘I do speak Italian, you realize?’ her voice was similarly muffled.

‘Yeah.’ His lips brushed her nape, where skin met hair. ‘I was counting on it.’

 


	5. Chapter 5

_Kidnapped! _The Musical

*             *             *

** _Why shouldn't things be largely absurd, futile, and transitory? They are so, and we are so, and they and we go very well together._ **

_George Santayana_

*             *             *

Chapter Four – In which Jordan Todd joins the festivities, and things heat up for David Rossi and Emily Prentiss

Now accompanied by Kevin Lynch, Reid made his way to the Counterterrorism Division; he knew that Jordan Todd would be willing to help the team that she had briefly been a part of. What he hadn’t expected was the strange uproar that seemed to have occurred.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked the nearest person, a man who, if nothing else, seemed highly amused by the whole thing.

‘The weirdest fucking thing, man.’ Like Strauss, the man was strangely unprofessional. ‘They’re all singing, and dancing, and making out and shit. My boss tried to jump me when I handed in my report. Some seriously fucked up shit.’

‘_Day in and day out,  
we’ll save the world,  
there is no doubt,  
but chances are the world will never know._

_They will bitch and they will fight  
at perceptions  
of their blight,  
but chances are the world will never know._

_How we’re saving all their asses  
without regard to social classes.  
How we put ourselves in peril  
while they’re busy being feral.  
How we’re working all night long  
and now we’re singing this dumb song._

_Chances are the world will never know._’

The singer was an evidently disgruntled worker, who clearly thought that they deserved more credit for their work. Reid and Kevin simply stared, no longer surprised by the sudden musical numbers.

‘Reid!’ he heard his name being called from across the room. Usually, such loud communication was frowned upon, but with two agents to his left engaged in a rap battle, he wasn’t quite sure that it mattered anymore.

Jordan Todd rushed towards him. ‘Can _you_ tell me what’s going on?’ Her eyes were pleading; she, like so many others, had come to rely on him for answers.

‘Something strange.’ It was the only answer he could give, and he knew that it wasn’t at all helpful.

‘You’re telling me.’ Her words were filled with exasperation. ‘I just gave my SAC a striptease.’ Reid looked down at the hastily refastened buttons on her shirt. It had been done in such a way that she might as well have had half her buttons undone anyway.

‘Perhaps some fresh air would help,’ suggested Reid, in that high voice that usually meant embarrassment for the good Doctor.

‘Where’s the rest of your team?’ she asked him, as they entered the elevator.

‘Kidnapped.’

‘Oh.’ She didn’t seem all that surprised. After all, it wasn’t exactly the most interesting thing that had happened so far that day.

‘Would you, uh, like to help me find them?’ he asked.

‘Anything’s better than being here.’

*             *             *

David Rossi found his hands moving up Emily’s body, sliding underneath her shirt. She did not flinch, did not back away; she wanted this as much as he did. She joined the distance between the lips. Both were so focused on their objectives that they almost tripped backwards in their attempt to reach the bed.

‘How long have you felt these urges?’ she pulled away from the kiss just long enough to ask him. He had pulled his hands from beneath her shirt, and was instead working towards removing the shirt altogether.

‘Since we woke up in this place,’ he admitted. His fingers did not stop their quest, nor did Emily try to stop them.

‘Me too,’ she said. She let him pull her upwards so that he could free her limbs of their poly-cotton blend shackles. ‘But it just feels so…right.’ She arched her back in pleasure as his fingers brushed across the silken skin of her breast, sending shivers down her spine.

‘Look at it this way.’ His free hand ran up her back, finding the bra clip. ‘At least we’re not singing.’

*             *             *

‘Do you hear footsteps?’ JJ whispered to Morgan. They had progressed a fair way since their escape from the room, and yet they saw the same rocky walls. There were no exit signs, no distinguishing features that could tell them where they were, where they had already been.

He gripped her hand tightly. He couldn’t remember when they had made the transition, that connection. All he knew was that the touch gave him security; as long as he was holding that hand, he knew that everything was going to be okay.

He nodded. ‘They’re not far away.’ His voice was as low as hers, not wanting to tip off a potential attacker. Still holding her hand, he turned the corner, brandishing the torch as a weapon.

He met a startled Hotch, the Unit Chief similarly vigilant. Upon seeing each other, they lowered their arms.

‘Garcia’s with me,’ Hotch said unnecessarily. The technical analyst was clinging to him as though he were his security blanket. ‘Have you see Rossi? Prentiss? Reid?’

Morgan shook his head. There was a few seconds of silence between them. A reassurance that they weren’t in this alone. It was those few seconds of silence that allowed them to hear the screams. Morgan frowned.

‘Is that Emily?’

‘I think so.’ The recently reunited group set off in the direction of the screams almost immediately. With the number of turns they took, the distance was incalculable. Eventually, though, they reached a door set into the rock wall. The key was in the lock.

Hotch turned the key, and stepped into the room.

With a speed that would shamed countless gunslingers, he made his retreat and pulled the door shut. There was a pallor to his face that none of them had ever seen before.

‘What is it, man?’ Morgan asked. He was confused by the situation. Hotch had closed the door before he had been able to get a look inside.

‘Let’s just wait a while, shall we?’ said Hotch.

‘What?’ asked Garcia. ‘How long are we supposed to wait?’

His next words shocked them all, even more so than the moans they could now hear emanating from the room.

‘If I know David Rossi,’ he said firmly, trying to stop his voice from shaking. ‘It could be a while.’

 


	6. Chapter 6

_Kidnapped!_ The Musical

*             *             *

** _There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness._ **

_Friedrich Nietzsche_

*             *             *

Chapter Five – In which a frantic former Detective William LaMontagne Junior makes a phone call and the kidnapped members of the BAU are fully reunited

They were in the parking lot, about to leave, when Reid’s phone rang. Considering the fact that they were three floors underground, he found it strange that he had reception at all. Of course, strange was in copious amounts today.

‘This is Spencer Reid,’ he answered cautiously. He didn’t quite know what to expect; he was almost relieved when he heard Will’s voice.

‘Reid. Thank God. Have you seen JJ? She disappeared last night, and I can’t find her anywhere.’ His voice had a quality of desperation that Reid was familiar with; it was the kind of desperation he had been feeling all day.

‘The rest of the team’s been kidnapped,’ Reid told him, somewhat sheepish that he had not contacted Will earlier. He had been so distracted by the singing that he had forgotten all about Will.

‘Oh my God,’ said Will. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘I’ve got Jordan and Kevin with me,’ he explained, casting a furtive glance at Jordan. He could not help but appreciate how beautiful she was when completely and utterly confused. ‘But some weird things are happening at Quantico.’ He did not elaborate, unsure if “everybody is _singing_” would go down too well with Will. Chances were, he would end up accusing Reid of not taking the situation seriously. ‘Can we regroup at your house?’

‘Of course,’ was Will’s reply.

‘Great. I’ll see you soon.’ He hung up as quickly as possible, to lessen the likelihood of breaking out into a pastiche pop number.

Once on the road, he realized that he had never actually been to Will and JJ’s new home. He knew the address, of course; he could recite all his colleagues’ addresses with perfect accuracy, a feat that was nothing if not unsurprising.

Will stood waiting at the front door; to the single profiler in the group, it was a demonstration of just how worried he was about his fiancée. Things had been a little bumpy lately, but now that JJ was missing, Will could not hide the fact that he, at the very least, cared for the mother of his child.

He opened his mouth the moment Reid, Jordan and Kevin stepped out of the car, but it was not words that came out. Not in the strictest sense of the term, anyway.

His voice had a rather mellow tone to it, lilted by his accent. His eyebrows rose in surprise at what he was doing, but he could not allow himself to stop singing. Reid checked his watch.

‘I guess this is a little further spread than we thought,’ he said.

*             *             *

Rossi exited the room first, his expression one of slight smugness. Emily came a second later, still adjusting the buttons on her shirt. Hotch’s unexpected interruption had ruined the mood; they were not in the business of cavorting so noisily whilst their boss was listening.

There was several seconds’ worth of awkward silence. Hotch refused to look either of the two in the eye, while Morgan caught Rossi’s gaze and gave him a wink. Though he had thought himself subtle, he gave a loud “oof” when Emily’s elbow struck him in the chest.

‘Let’s keep moving, shall we?’ suggested Garcia, still incredulous at the scene that had played out before her. Never in a million years would she have expected Rossi and Prentiss to get it on, so to speak.

‘What do you remember?’ asked JJ, knowing that Hotch would not ask the question any time soon. It would take him long enough simply to get over what he had seen. The rest of them had not had the misfortune of witnessing the act, and were thus not nearly as shaken as the Unit Chief.

‘Getting attacked last night, waking up here,’ Rossi said simply. Emily nodded.

‘And the singing,’ she added nonchalantly, as if it were something much less significant than it actually was.

Four faces collapsed in relief. If it were just them, then they would have thought it were simply insanity, a side effect of their constant psychological trauma. To know that all of them were singing, while disturbing in some ways, was also strangely comforting.

‘Oh,’ said Morgan eventually. ‘Do you guys know where Reid is?’


	7. Chapter 7

_Kidnapped!_ The Musical

*             *             *

** _Often the best way to overcome desire is to satisfy it._ **

_W. Somerset Maugham_

*             *             *

Chapter Six – In which zombies inexplicably appear and Spencer Reid receives another phone call

They had been wandering the rock passages for some time, in a fruitless attempt to find an exit; every turn, every rock seemed to look the same, even to the people who were trained to notice the subtle differences in things.

The only sound in amongst the silence was Morgan’s stomach making a strange growl. It sounded like the more aggressive variety of big cat. It was a reminder to them that they had not eaten in some time.

‘How long have we been down here, anyway?’ Garcia wondered aloud. She felt as though she had lost all perception of time. By this point, they could have been in this strange place for days.

Emily looked down at her watch, unsurprised to see that it had stopped completely.

‘There are a lot of weird things going on,’ remarked Rossi. ‘Aside from the singing.’

‘Oh, you’re telling me.’ Garcia’s laughter echoed. ‘There are some serious pheromones at work here.’

Morgan frowned. ‘What do you mean, baby girl?’

‘Well...I’ve been having the strangest urge to jump Hotch’s bones, which, with all due respect sir – you are very attractive – is a relatively new development in my life.’

This sudden proclamation caused the entire group to come to a sudden halt, at least three of them burdened with inappropriate mental images.

Rossi gave a small groan at the thought of anyone “jumping Hotch’s bones.” There was a reason work and home life were supposed to be separated. Unfortunately, the sound was not quiet enough for Garcia to miss.

‘I’m fairly sure that I’m not the only one with previously unmentioned sexual desires,’ she countered, though not maliciously.

 ‘Hopefully we can all hold off from doing something we’ll regret later on,’ Hotch added drily.

Rossi and Prentiss shared a glance. ‘Yeah,’ Emily said finally. ‘Regret.’

‘Do you hear that?’ JJ was not simply trying to thin the sexual tension that had suddenly overtaken the scene. She heard a strange groaning sound in the distance.

‘Reid?’ wondered Morgan.

Rossi shook his head. ‘Even at the worst of times, Reid doesn’t sound like that.’

As they had become accustomed to in their line of work, they found themselves investigating the origin of the noise, rather than moving _away_ from it. Almost unconsciously, they sung a soft chorus.

_‘We’ve seen this so many times before  
In tales of glory, tales of yore.  
We’ve seen evil fall, and good prevail  
Seen so many sides to the tale._

_We’ve seen the darkness,  
seen the light.  
To make it through  
we’ll have to fight.’_

JJ had sung the first stanza, and their voices were curiously synchronized for the second. Before they had a chance to further chronicle their circumstances, the source of the strange groaning became apparent.

Zombies.

*             *             *

Will seemed to complete them, Reid thought. They could now embark on their quest to rescue the rest of the BAU. If only they hadn’t reached a dead end.

‘So what do we do?’ asked Kevin. His words mirrored all their thoughts. All they had was a strange mysteriously appearing envelope, and the spontaneous predisposition to musical chorus that had consumed them.

‘We, uh…’ Reid started to speak, but then fully realized; he had absolutely no idea what they were supposed to do. Concrete villains he could battle; unsubs, monsters. But this strange set of occurrences was a whole new ballgame.

Jordan Todd had a fair idea of what she wanted to do. However, all of these ideas were highly explicit, and, to be frank, disturbed her greatly. She had always seen Spencer Reid as nothing more than a colleague, and not a particularly close colleague at that. To have fantasies of him…_No_. She pushed the thoughts out of her head, though it was increasingly difficult not to see…

Her train of thought was interrupted by Reid’s phone.

‘Uh, hello?’ he answered.

‘You haven’t gotten any closer to finding them…’

Reid frowned. How was he expected to find them without any evidence, any clues to tell him where they had gone.

‘Can you give me a hint?’ He felt almost ashamed asking; he was Spencer Reid, certified genius. He didn’t ask for hints.

The voice on the other end of the phone laughed.

‘Follow the breadcrumbs, Doctor Reid.’

And with that, Reid heard nothing but a dial tone.


	8. Chapter 8

_Kidnapped! _The Musical

*             *             *

** _Opera is when a guy gets stabbed in the back and, instead of bleeding, he sings._ **

_Ed Gardner_

*             *             *

Chapter Seven – In which Spencer Reid gets a lesson in the meaning of the word “literally,” and his colleagues discover that, contrary to popular belief, there is such thing as a vegetarian zombie

_Breadcrumbs,_ mused Reid silently. _What breadcrumbs are we supposed to be following?_

He was confused, and he didn’t like it.

Things weren’t supposed to happen like this; he was the one that was always supposed to be getting kidnapped, not them. He wasn’t quite sure he knew how to function on this side of the story.

He sat in the driver’s seat of the car, hand on the steering wheel. They weren’t moving. They hadn’t even left Will and JJ’s house.

_‘…what am I supposed to do,  
when the world is all askew.  
Am I supposed to scream and shout  
to let all the anger out.’_

‘Reid.’ Jordan put a hand on his shoulder, and he immediately felt her warmth surge through him. ‘You’re singing again.’

‘I know.’ He gave her a lopsided, yet forced smile. ‘I can’t seem to stop it.’

They were waiting for Will, who, with Kevin’s help, was trying to persuade a neighbor to look after Henry for a while. It wouldn’t do well for them to bring an infant along on their rescue mission.

‘Hey, Reid!’ Reid’s head shot up at the sound of Kevin’s voice. It sounded urgent. Fumbling to unbuckle his seatbelt, he got out of the car, almost tripping over his own feet several times. ‘Did you see these?’ Kevin asked the moment Reid was in range, gesturing to the tiny white specks that formed a long line down the driveway.

‘What are they?’ asked Jordan, as she joined him.

Reid knelt down, grasping one of the specks between his fingertips. ‘You have _got_ to be kidding me,’ he said incredulously. He could really have kicked himself.

‘What is it?’ asked Kevin excitedly. ‘What are they?’

‘They’re breadcrumbs,’ said Reid finally.

_Follow the breadcrumbs._

It may have been useful advice after all.

*             *             *

‘Zombies?’ said Rossi flatly. As if their circumstances weren’t screwed up enough already. There were zombies coming, and they had no practical way of fighting the beasts off. All they had was fire.

‘How do you kill a zombie?’ asked Hotch, not being aware of the entire sub-culture that went along with zombie slaying and survival.

‘Head shot,’ supplied Emily.

‘Though severing the spinal column is said to work as well,’ added Garcia.

At Rossi’s curious look, Emily shrugged. ‘What? Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Dawn of the Dead? No? Shaun of the Dead? Oh, sweetie, we need to educate you.’  Rossi rolled his eyes at the moniker she had placed upon him. He dearly hoped that the sarcasm he sensed had been real.

The first zombie rounded the corner, and was knocked back momentarily by a solid right hook from Morgan. JJ had to hand it to him – give the guy a direction and a target, and he packed a hell of punch. Unfortunately, zombies were less affected by the hit than a regular human would have been. Just one of those side-effects about being undead.

‘_Just because  
your heart don’t beat  
doesn’t mean  
we can’t defeat  
you._

_Just because  
you’re cold and dead  
doesn’t mean  
we can’t behead  
you.’_

‘Damnit, Rossi, stop singing and help us kill the fucking zombies,’ yelled Emily, struggling, with Hotch and Morgan, to hold back the throbbing horde. Their efforts were not entirely successful – a couple of zombies made it through, only to be repelled by the torches that Garcia and JJ were brandishing.

‘Um…guys?’ Morgan said, looking sideways at a despondent zombie. ‘Why aren’t we being eaten?’ The zombie simply stood there, not even moving when Morgan poked it in the chest.

‘Maybe they’re not hungry,’ suggested Hotch.

‘Maybe they’re vegetarian,’ said Emily. ‘Look – this one has a bit of carrot dangling from his lip.’

Rossi narrowed his eyes. ‘What the hell is this place? Random kidnappings? Strange musical numbers? Pheromones? Vegetarian zombies? What’s next? A ninja mariachi band?’

Morgan clapped the older man on the back. ‘Look at it this way, Rossi,’ he said. ‘Way better than doing paperwork.’


	9. Chapter 9

_Kidnapped! _The Musical

*          *          *

** _No opera plot can be sensible, for people do not sing when they are feeling sensible._ **

_W. H. Auden_

*          *          *

Chapter Eight – In which some questions are answered, and even more questions are raised

By some amazing coincidence, which Rossi would later purport to a “jackass behind the curtain” they reached their destination just as Reid, Jordan, Kevin and Will rounded the corner into their path.

‘Uh…hi,’ said Reid, waving awkwardly with his right hand. His left hand was intertwined with Jordan’s. Rossi raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you guys okay? You look a little…bruised.’

‘Having an interesting day?’

‘You’d be surprised,’ smiled Jordan.

‘Oh, I highly doubt that,’ Rossi countered, indicating the grouping of the rest of the team. There had certainly been a sudden increase in the amount of sexual tension since the previous day. ‘Out of curiosity, have you been singing, by any chance?’

‘_I must confess  
I don’t know why  
we’re in this mess._

_I’ve tried to search  
for facts and clues…  
But I can’t find  
anything.’_

Reid frowned. ‘That doesn’t rhyme…’

‘Not all songs have to rhyme, Spencer,’ Jordan reminded him, nudging the young genius in the shoulder.

‘I know,’ he said, shrugging. ‘It just sounds wrong.’

‘I’m going to take that one as a yes,’ commented Hotch, his dry humor ever-present. Garcia snuggled into his grip.

‘You don’t have to be mean to him, snoogie-puffs,’ she pouted.

‘Snoogie-puffs?’ asked Kevin, slightly incredulous. Rossi found himself amused that the tech’s interruption had distracted most of the group from the utterly horrified look on Aaron Hotchner’s face.

‘I…I’m sorry, Kevin,’ she whispered. ‘I just…I just have these feelings that I can’t get rid of. I don’t want to hurt you.’

Kevin relaxed slightly. ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘In truth, I, uh…I’ve been feeling some strange new things lately too.’ He turned to Will, the southern former Detective giving a small double-take.

‘I thought it was just me,’ he said, and there was a few seconds of silence before he dove for the technical analyst’s lips.

JJ raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, no, don’t mind me,’ she muttered. ‘I’ll just start making out with Morgan if it’s all the same to you.’

Rossi let out a chuckle as she did exactly as threatened.

‘What about you?’ asked Reid. ‘Are you going to flake out on us too, now?’

‘Already consummated,’ Rossi told him, with just the slightest hint of smugness. Emily elbowed him in the ribs, but Rossi thought it was worth it just to see the look on Reid’s face.

‘This is getting out of hand,’ Hotch spoke, his voice loud enough to tear the two respective couples from their public displays of affection. ‘Reid, were you taken?’

‘I…no. We, uh…We followed a trail of breadcrumbs. All I got was a couple of phone calls, and a, uh…a magical disappearing letter.’ His voice took on a slightly more serious tone. ‘It’s chaos at the Bureau Hotch. Everybody’s singing.’

Hotch nodded. ‘First order of business – we need to get the hell out of here. Which way did you come?’

Reid gesture to the passage they had taken, the rock wall looking exactly the same as every other rock wall they’d seen so far. ‘Follow me,’ he said, tripping slightly, and almost bringing Jordan down with him.

Before they could go more than six foot, there was a loud bang, and smoke started pouring into the tunnel. ‘Get down!’ called Rossi, in lieu of any other option. He kept his hand on Emily’s back, fully aware of the fact that she would chew him out for it later.

Someone started coughing; a loud, hacking cough that didn’t belong to any member of the team. ‘Son of a bitch!’ The voice, too, did not belong to any member of the team. ‘Really need to fix that smoke machine.’

Rossi stood, vaguely aware of the rest of the team following suit. Emily gave him a dirty look, but said nothing.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ Morgan demanded of the figure, who was still obscured by the rapidly dissipating smoke.

‘Like I said, smoke machine’s broken.’ The man – for it definitely _was_ a man, Rossi could now tell – spoke in a condescending tone, as if answer should have been obvious.

‘No,’ Morgan said, with gritted teeth. ‘I mean why are we here?’

The man, who was almost insultingly average looking, shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Why are any of us here? Are we some cog in the universe’s plan? Are we the product of one giant, catastrophic mistake? Are we a stepping stone in the creation of _real_ intelligent life? And, indeed, who’s to say that we actually _are_ here? We could just be figments of our own imagination. I kno-‘

Morgan cut him off, not even bothering to hide the anger in his voice. ‘Why are we _here_? Why did you kidnap us?’

‘Oh. That.’

The man shrugged.

‘_When you live alone,  
there’s not really much to do,  
so you kidnap who you can,  
and see who makes it through.’_

The song evidently had more verses, but the man stopped before he had the chance to recite them. He looked down at the floor, where his feet were engaged in a rather complicated tap dance. He looked at the team, the confusion evident on his face.

‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Why am I _singing?_’


	10. Chapter 10

_Kidnapped! _The Musical

*          *          *

** _Imagination is the one weapon in the war against reality._ **

_Jules de Gaultier_

*          *          *

Chapter Nine – In which the team abandon one foe, and go in search of another

‘Let me get this straight,’ Hotch asked, exasperated. ‘You went to all this trouble, setting up this place, hiring people to kidnap us, filled the hallways with all manner of strange creatures…for fun.’ The concept seemed strange to him – there was usually a method behind the madness. That their kidnapper was doing this out of boredom…

‘Sounds about right,’ the man shrugged.

‘But you have nothing to do with the singing?’ asked Morgan, and Hotch could notice the desperation creeping into the younger man’s voice – if he kept singing much longer, he’d lose his street cred.

‘Don’t look at me; I’m just as confused as you are. But if you could figure that one out, I’d be much obliged.’

Before Hotch could do anything, Morgan had slammed the man up against the cave wall. His hand went to his belt.

‘I need cuffs,’ he said shortly. There was a flurry of movement as the group searched their own person for anything that could be used to subdue their kidnapper. Finally, Jordan produced a pair of cuffs.

‘I’ll pick up another set later,’ she said, winking at Reid. The young profiler gulped.

‘How did you guys get here?’ Morgan asked, looking around, as though some kind of teleportation device might be hidden behind a rock, or in one of Reid’s pockets.

‘We, uh…we walked,’ Reid shrugged slightly. ‘Followed the breadcrumbs.’ Hotch wasn’t entirely sure what that was supposed to mean, and there wasn’t time to ask.

‘So you’re sure you remember the way back?’ Morgan asked Reid.

Reid simply stared at him.

            *          *          *

He had thought that navigating his way back to the surface would be an easy task; he was Spencer Reid, genius extraordinaire, eidetic memory, three Ph. D.s. He didn’t _get_ lost. He prided himself in being more accurate than the leading brand of in-car GPS. The fact that the GPS system, too, would have been at a loss in their present situation didn’t seem to help in the slightest.

‘I think it was this way?’ Will provided, standing at the left fork of the tunnel. ‘The air smells different.’

Reid sniffed. He couldn’t tell the difference between the air there, and the air in any other part of the tunnel system.

‘Maybe it is,’ their kidnapper chided, ‘Maybe it isn’t.’ Morgan kneed him in the back, resulting in a loud “oomph.”

‘You can really smell the difference in the air?’ Emily asked curiously. ‘Is that a New Orleans thing?’

‘I can smell half a pinch of paprika from ten paces,’ the former detective proclaimed proudly. There was a short silence, during which (had they not have been underground) the chirping of crickets would not have seemed out of place.

‘That’s…fascinating,’ Emily said, though Reid was fairly sure that “fascinating” wouldn’t have been her original choice of sentiments. She sounded – unsurprisingly – irritated, and an irritated Emily wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy of creatures.

‘You’re sure it’s the right way?’ enquired Morgan, eyebrow raised with some skepticism.

‘As sure as you’re sportin’ the slightest hint of Old Spice, _ma chérie_,’ he winked, much to Kevin’s evident consternation. ‘S’okay, sugar. You’re the only one for me.’

‘Okay, moving on,’ Hotch said, his voice strong. ‘Will, lead the way.’

*          *          *

‘_Walking through the darkness.  
Looking for my light.  
Every day the world seems like  
a much more tragic place_

_Walking through the darkness  
Trying to find some peace.  
Every day I’m feeling like  
I just can’t show my face._’

Rossi cast his gaze across to Hotch, who was singing the words in a low and mournful voice. There was a look of despair on the younger man’s voice; he couldn’t control what he was singing, and there was no way in the world he wanted anyone else to hear the thought processes that were going through his mind. Aaron Hotchner had shields for a reason.

‘We’re almost out, Hotch,’ Garcia whispered, squeezing the Unit Chief’s arm.

‘What is this, _Grey’s Anatomy_?’ asked the kidnapper, in an amused tone. ‘How long will it be before you all break up, and go out with a different member of the in-group?’ Morgan kicked him again, this time with much less restraint. He fell to his knees, cuffed hands in front of him.

‘Resisting arrest,’ said Morgan flatly. No-one argued.

As if on cue, they saw a bright light cutting through the darkness in the passage ahead. Will gave a short laugh, nudging Kevin. ‘See. Nothin’ gets past this nose.’

‘Now what?’ asked JJ, hands on her hips, sweat slicking her forehead.

‘Now we find out what the hell is going on,’ said Rossi decidedly.


	11. Chapter 11

_Kidnapped! _The Musical

**…**

** _It is a far, far better thing to have a firm anchor in nonsense than to put out on the troubled sea of thought._ **

_John Kenneth Galbraith_

**…**

Chapter Ten – In which the team return to the BAU, and a mysterious question is given a ridiculous answer

Reid blinked.

They were standing outside the FBI Academy – definitely not the place where they had first encountered the tunnel. They didn’t end up where they thought they were going, but rather, the place they needed to be. It was strange. Considering the day had been fraught with impromptu musicals, inexplicable romantic entanglements, and all other manner of things, he wasn’t surprised in the least.

Today, his world had evolved beyond science; beyond quantum physics, and chemistry, and biology. It seemed both intriguing and disconcerting at the same time.

Jordan put a hand to his shoulder.

‘Is everything okay?’ she asked him, in a concerned voice.

He wasn’t quite sure how to answer.

One by one, the rest of the team emerged, eyes wide, as though waking from a bizarre dream. Morgan was grasping the kidnapper by the arm, the silent threat of bodily harm hanging in the air.

The dream wasn’t over yet.

‘What now?’ Garcia wondered aloud, and no-one was quite sure what the answer to that question was. The random, inexplicable musical urges that overcame them were not exactly a crime that could be profiled; there was no victimology, no crime scene. They were lost.

It wasn’t exactly a common experience for Spencer Reid. Today, he was learning a lot of new things.

‘We’ll regroup in the briefing room,’ Hotch said authoritatively. ‘I know that it probably won’t do much good, but I’m going to ask you all to try and keep the singing to a minimum.’

Rossi nodded. ‘We don’t want to get sucked into the chaos.’

Hotch shook his head. ‘Not just that. It’s giving me a fucking headache.’

Eyebrows were raised at the Unit Chief’s uncharacteristic swear. Just another sign of the topsi-turviness that had overtaken the world.

After Morgan kicked the kidnapper in the shins when he started to hum, the elevator ride up to their floor was completely silent. Reid was half amused to noticed that they had clumped themselves into pairs; Hotch and Garcia, Kevin and Will, Rossi and Prentiss, etc.

The elevator stopped with a ding, and they stepped out into a whole different world.

‘Are they…can-can dancers?’ Emily asked incredulously.

‘At least no-one’s stripping anymore,’ shrugged Jordan. Reid gave her a look. She winked back.

‘Hey Dave,’ Emily nudged Rossi. ‘There’s that ninja mariachi band you wanted so much.’

‘We should probably make sure that Cyber Crimes gets drug tested a little more often,’ JJ added.

They were greeted by Agent Anderson, who seemed to be wearing a skintight jumpsuit, and intermittently broke out into spasms of glam rock.

‘Hey guys,’ he said, a look of pure misery on his face. ‘_I_ _believe in a thing called love. Just listen to the rhythm of my heart._’ He slapped himself, hard, before the song could continue. Reid frowned. It almost seemed as though whatever was causing this was more potent in the FBI building. It wouldn’t surprise him if the source was somewhere in the immediate vicinity. ‘Strauss wants to see you,’ Anderson added. ‘_Don’t stop believing. Hold on to that feeeeling. Street lights, pe-_’ The song was cut off as Rossi slapped the younger man again. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I tell you – if you can find out what’s causing this, I will be forever grateful.’ Morgan handed their prisoner over to Anderson, who promised to deal with him, once the madness had died down.

‘What would Strauss want?’ mused Garcia, as they walked back towards the elevators, leaving chaos behind them.

‘Wouldn’t surprise me if the Wicked Witch of the West was behind this whole thing,’ laughed Emily.  No-one else found the comment particularly amusing. Perhaps because it wouldn’t surprise _anyone_.

‘Let’s not go making hasty assumptions,’ Hotch frowned, not bothering to deny the possibility.

Reid took the lead, stepping through into Strauss’ office with some apprehension. The office was a fairly large one, but with the ten of them, plus Strauss, crowded in there, it seemed more the size of a supply closet. Of course, supply closets were usually used for more nefarious activities.

‘Are you causing this?’ Garcia blurted out, cutting in on the tense silence.

Erin Strauss, Section Chief, bane of their existence, three time winner of the FBI’s Least Favorite Agent award, simply stared at them.

‘That’s a very harsh accusation,’ Strauss replied, which in Reid’s eyes, seemed as good as a confession. ‘You certainly can’t prove that I’m responsible for increased pheromone levels-’

‘Wait,’ Reid cut in. ‘You’re not talking about the music, are you?’

Strauss gave a cold laugh. ‘You think _I’m_ responsible for this clusterfuck? Really, what could I gain from making sure that no agent gets _any_ work done?’

‘But you…pheromones?’ Will said, his voice filled with confusion. ‘Are we attracted to each other because you made us?’

‘Well…’ Strauss conceded. ‘It didn’t exactly turn out the way it was supposed to. I would have chosen much more conventional pairings, but fate just had to get in the way.’

‘That doesn’t make this any less real,’ Hotch said, his voice filled with an anger that Reid had never heard before. ‘Whatever we…whatever I feel, that’s real enough.’

Garcia gave him a look. ‘You mean that, sweetcheeks?’

‘Of course I do, Penelope.’ They shared a long, passionate kiss. Everyone looked away awkwardly; Reid could sense their need to mirror the same actions, but that would have been a little cheesy.

‘Wait, wait…’ JJ held her hands up. ‘You were responsible for the inexplicable attraction, the crazy guy was responsible for the kidnapping, but we still don’t know why everybody’s singing.’

‘Um…’ Kevin said, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. ‘I, uh…I kind of have a confession to make. Well…The singing was my fault. There was a demon, and a necklace, and a happy ending, and I just…yeah.’

Reid shook his head.

Really, nothing surprised him anymore.


	12. Chapter 12

_Kidnapped! _The Musical

**…**

** _In the end, everything is a gag._ **

_Charlie Chaplin_

**…**

Chapter Eleven – As with many stories, it ends with sex

Apparently, slaying a demon was harder than it looked.

Especially if said demon was doing its best to make you sing while it skipped out right beneath your nose. Ultimately, though, the team prevailed.

The BAU coming out on top just seemed to be one of those universal truths that Reid always kept talking about. Of course, Reid wasn’t talking now – he was too busy trying to suck Jordan Todd’s lips off her face.

All in all, it had been a fairly good day, Emily mused to herself. She’d gotten laid, and the world hadn’t ended in a fiery ball of Gilbert and Sullivan. Yet.

Unfortunately, the day wasn’t over yet, and she was pretty damn sure that Hotch didn’t go around singing _Pirates of Penzance_ on a normal day.

‘What’s going on?’ Morgan demanded of Kevin, who cowered in fear.

‘I don’t know!’ he said. ‘Killing the demon should have ended the curse.’

Reid stopped kissing Jordan just long enough to say, ‘Maybe there are some residual effects – it’s interesting that he’s actually singing a cover now, rather than a completely original song. If I were to guess, I’d say that the spell is still lingering.’

‘So what?’ asked JJ with a frown. ‘Do we just do karaoke until it wears off?’

Reid shook his head. ‘Karaoke is forced – these events are exceedingly spontaneous. Singing where there would otherwise be none. It seems as though we’ll just have to let it play out.’

‘So stay out of public until we’ve stopped singing?’ Garcia frowned. ‘That’s pretty much the opposite of what I do when I’m drinking.’

‘It’s all I can think of,’ said Reid apologetically. ‘I’m sorry; they don’t exactly have any textbooks about this kind of thing.’

‘Necronomicon?’ Emily suggested, to which Reid shook his head.__

‘I think I’ll have to do some searching for this kind of information,’ he said with a frown.

‘Let me guess, you’ll get a Ph. D in occult studies?’ suggested Rossi, shaking his head.

‘That’s not a bad idea…’ Reid said slowly. ‘Now that we know such things exist, it would be a good idea if we were prepared.’

Emily rolled her eyes, and elbowed Rossi softly. ‘Way to go.’

‘What?’ He had that put on innocent look on his face, and Emily couldn’t help but smile. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ she said. ‘No offence, but if I start singing, I don’t really want to be here.’ She gave Rossi a look – the “do you want to come home with me and have ridiculous amounts of hot sex?” look. He didn’t argue.

**…**

Garcia followed Hotch to his office, fluro pink purse hanging off her shoulder. Since Strauss’ revelation, things had been somewhat awkward between them, but Garcia simply could not quell the fire that was burning inside her heart.

Now that things were back to normal, though, she knew that it wouldn’t last; Aaron Hotchner was not the kind of man to engage in a relationship with a subordinate, even if his scandalous love affair with Emily and Reid (at the same time, apparently) had somehow made it into the FBI rumor mill. Penelope Garcia couldn’t possibly hope to live up to that.

‘Sir, I just wanted to…apologize for my behavior today. It was inappropriate, and I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.’

For a few long, agonizing seconds, Hotch was silent. ‘I feel like I should be the one apologizing,’ he said finally. ‘For the longest time…’ He frowned, seemingly lost for words. ‘Penelope, you are the brightest thing in my life, and inappropriate behavior or no, I can’t deny that I felt the same way.’

She stared at him. Out of all the responses he could have possibly given, that was totally not the one she had expected.

‘But, the rumors…’ Garcia started, a little exasperated.

‘I know what the rumor mill says,’ Hotch said, a slight chuckle accompanying his words. ‘Reid and Prentiss are both exemplary agents, but the truth is…I prefer blonds.’

‘Well, they do have more fun,’ Garcia conceded.

‘I think we’ll have to test that theory.’

Garcia stared at him. Did he just suggest…

_Ohmigod, did Hotch just propose sexy times?_

‘Be still my speckled heart, sir, I think it’s time you took me home.’

There was a rare sparkle in Hotch’s eye.

‘I think that’s a wonderful idea.’

**…**

The first thing that Morgan did was find a convenient supply closet.

JJ had an office, of course, but even with the door shut, people were always barging into offices. In any case, the supply closet was a time-honored tradition that he wasn’t going to deny.

He could have kicked himself for not paying attention to just how ridiculously attractive Jennifer Jareau was before today. Her shirt was tight enough to leave nothing to the imagination, and her skirt was cut in a way that told him her legs were spectacular. For a long time, their friendship had been bordering on antagonistic, but he was determined to change that, once and for all.

It seemed strange to think that JJ was the first girlfriend he’d had who would unquestionably join him in his favorite pursuits; beer, football, and teasing Reid.

He kissed a line along her neck, hard enough to give a little bit of pressure, but soft enough not to leave any marks. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he murmured.

‘Not so bad yourself, stud,’ she replied, lifting his shirt over his head.

‘Will?’ he asked, a little unsure as to the status of that relationship.

‘Pretty sure he’s getting his jollies off in the men’s bathroom with Kevin,’ she replied. ‘We haven’t exactly been…It wasn’t going to last, anyway.’

Morgan nodded. As much as he lusted after JJ, he didn’t want to be a home-wrecker.

Considering the state of his pants, it was probably too late to go back anyway.

**…**

Will _had_ considered the men’s bathroom at first, but he didn’t particularly want to jeopardize Kevin’s job; considering there would be a lot of moving around over the course of the next few months, either one of them being out of a job would be a major annoyance.

Instead, he waited down by Kevin’s car – a bright green Volkswagen Beetle that almost made Will’s eyes bleed. He didn’t want to screw this up. Kevin looked almost surprised to see him there, even more so when Will gave him a kiss on the cheek.

‘Hey.’

Kevin stared at him. ‘I don’t like the way that word sounds. Is this…are you backing out?’

Will shook his head. ‘No, no, I…I’ve never done this before, chère.’

‘Neither have I,’ Kevin shrugged. ‘Well…apart from a couple of times in college, but that was pretty short term. We can, uh…we can work it out as we go, right? No such thing as a normal relationship.’

‘Considering how this all started, I’d say that’s a big damn truth.’

‘I guess that just leaves one question – your place or mine?’

William LaMontagne Junior gave a grin.

**…**

Reid burst into song in the car, but otherwise their night had been relatively uneventful so far, with dinner and television. He managed to slot a commentary of the history of the universe into the ad breaks, and Jordan wasn’t upset at all, which was a first. Usually his dates found the “genius” thing a bit of a turn-on at first, but got sick of it quickly when he explained the materials that went into making a condom, or something else ridiculous.

Still, part of him was wondering how long this particular honeymoon period would last. He didn’t know Jordan Todd particularly well; during her time on the team, she’d usually spent her time with Morgan or Emily.

‘Do you like music?’ he asked, hovering near the CD player, a little unsure of himself. He had classical, mostly; Beethoven and Tchaikovsky and Chopin.

‘That would be nice,’ she said, and he gave a sigh of relief.

‘Hey.’ Jordan stood, facing him. ‘You don’t have to pretend to be someone else, Spencer. I want to be with _you_.’

He was a little flustered at first, but that soon disappeared.

Along with his clothes.

**…**

It had been two days since “The Event” as they called it, and Emily found herself being roped into attending one of her mother’s functions. As good fortune would have it though, for the first time in so long, she wasn’t going alone.

David Rossi looked ridiculously good in a tuxedo, and there were mutual promises of post-event sex, so complaining was at a minimum. Still, that didn’t mean she was particularly thrilled about being cornered by her mother.

‘Just a little bit longer,’ Dave whispered under his breath.

‘_It’s astounding_…’ Emily replied, her expression twisting into a frown.

_Oh no._

_Oh, God no._

‘What’s astounding?’ he asked, curious.

‘_Time is fleeting_…’ She gave him a look of desperation, one that not even a non-profiler could misinterpret. ‘_Madness…takes its toll._’

‘You’re _singing_?’ he said, half-incredulous. ‘_Here?_’

‘_But listen closely…not for very much longer. I’ve got to keep control._’ She clamped her jaw shut, trying to will the words to stay inside, to wait just half an hour longer while they escaped. Escape didn’t seem to be an option, though, as her legs didn’t seemed to be inclined to move in the way she wanted them too. Of course, they were perfectly willing to _dance_, which was just another horror story. ‘_I remember…doing the Time Warp, drinking those moments when…the blackness would hit me, and the void would be calling…LET’S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN!’_

Her mind had the good graces to unlock its stranglehold at that point, allowing her to escape to the bathroom, hyperaware of all the eyes that followed.

_Fuck._

‘Hey.’

Emily jumped as she felt Rossi’s hand on her shoulder.

‘I guess it’s not quite over, huh?’

Emily shook her head, abject horror in her eyes. Finally, she said, ‘I guess this means I’ll never be invited to another function again. Maybe something good has come from this whole “singing, and fucking and kidnapping” experience after all.’

‘I’m wounded,’ Rossi said, sounding as though wounded was the last emotion he felt. ‘I think you’ll have to find some way to make it up to me.’

‘What did you have in mind?’

‘A gentleman never tells.’

**…**

The next day, the sun rose, and the birds were singing, and none of the team were kidnapped, missing, or otherwise held hostage, which really, was more than they could say about some days.

THE END.


End file.
